


Some Call It Living

by Fallynleaf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 19:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3458507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallynleaf/pseuds/Fallynleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jody was in love with Donna, but not like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Call It Living

**Author's Note:**

> Written incredibly last minute for Femslash February, mostly in under two hours, though I did grab a couple bits of dialogue previously drafted for another fic, which will probably never be written due to my inability to commit to longfics. Essentially, this fic is the (highly) abridged version of that one, though it did turn out a little darker than intended.

When Jody started spending every other weekend with Donna, Alex inevitably got suspicious, and she accused Jody of skipping off to shack up in a cheap motel with her lesbian lover, and Jody denied it, but Alex called _bullshit_ , and the thing is? She wasn't exactly wrong. She wasn't exactly right, though, either.

They started with little jobs. Things in the vicinity of the South Dakota-Minnesota border. And only the easy stuff: minor ghosts, werewolves, maybe a vamp or two, if the nest was small.

In the beginning, they stayed in decent hotels. And then the jobs became frequent enough, it stopped being affordable. The hunter's narrative gets you that way. Turns you into criminals and sinners.

Donna still wouldn't curse, though. Jody swore probably about twice as much around her in order to make up for it.

One day, the two of them were crowded over the library computer, Jody's hand on the back of Donna's chair, and they peered at a blurry photo on the screen.

"What the H-E-double-hockey sticks is _that_?" Donna asked in a low whisper.

"It's a real place, you know," Jody said.

"What?" Donna turned towards her in confusion.

"Hell. It exists. People go there. Sam and Dean both went there, actually."

Donna just gaped at her.

"So you should just say it. If you treat the word like it's Voldemort's name, it's just going to scare you more."

But Donna remained incorruptible, and maybe that was the worst part, because Jody was in love with her. The dirty kind of love, the kind where she wanted to feel Donna writhe beneath her and whisper obscenities into her ear, the kind where she wanted to make Donna come entirely undone just so that she could reassure herself that she was still human, and alive.

Another day, on a different hunt, Donna said, "Y'know, I'm kinda glad monsters are real."

"Why?" Jody asked.

"Because there's always so much death and murder in the papers, and it's kind of a relief that it's not all caused by people doing that to other people," Donna said. "This job‒being a sheriff, I mean‒ it's sometimes easy to lose a lot of faith in people. And some people are bad eggs, yeah, but most of the time, people are just the vics. So we should keep trying to keep them safe, because people are worth it."

Jody didn't remind Donna that most of the monsters were people once, too. She knew that if she did try and argue it, Donna would find the single thread of optimism and pick at it until she won the argument.

Maybe it was _Jody_ who was unraveling at Donna's hands, and not the other way around. Slowly becoming pliant and light, floating up to the surface through all of the monster sludge and gore.

But when it came down to it, there were only two things that Jody knew for certain: 1) She was in love with Donna, and 2) She didn't swing that way. Donna probably didn't, either. She only ever talked about men.

And Jody was just too damn old to have a sexuality crisis.

So she lay under scratchy motel sheets and looked over at Donna sleeping in the adjacent bed and tried to imagine fucking her. She didn't let herself think about sleepy cuddles in the morning, or the warmth of having someone next to you in bed, or the way Donna's face looked while she was sleeping, all soft and calm and a little bit silly in that endearing way of hers.

Maybe Jody had assumed she would scare herself out of love with Donna if she thought about it in concrete terms. But if she'd wanted to scare herself, she probably should've followed her own advice and not tried to name that weird, tight feeling in her chest.

It didn't help that the more she thought about it, the more she wanted it. Until the _wanting_ gained a bitter edge that was a little too close to _pining_ , and then Jody knew she was fucked.

She didn't let herself wonder if Donna harbored any similar feelings towards her. Good things simply didn't happen to hunters, and Jody was happy to leave it at that. Hope was just not a concept she was on amiable terms with.

The first time Donna kissed her, they were both drunk with adrenaline and exhilaration after a hunt, and it didn't matter what you named it, because Jody was a hunter, and she was _alive_.


End file.
